Pumpkin Scissors-Blood of Nations
by TheInnkeeper
Summary: COMPLETE REWRITE! STAY TUNED! Part III after Protect Me Now and Poetic Justice! Read those first, please! The third and final arc in the saga of Imperial State Section III. More new characters, more twist and turns, more romance? Rated M for a much darker, violent story, etc.
1. Chapter 1 Bleeding a Cure

Pumpkin Scissors Part III-Blood of Nations

_Prelude:_

It was not the near-freezing temperature, that awakened Alice, nor the horizontal rain that had long ago soaked her to the bone, nor the ugly wound in her side. It was the deafening thunder overhead. Somehow in the squall of the storm, she had fallen asleep, probably due to exhaustion. The world tilted this way and that in a familiar, soothing rhythm, though she didn't know quite why. She did know that she was unafraid and felt no pain. Even in her weakened state, she had held on to her sword in an iron grip. She managed to turn her head and saw she left a trail of blood. It was a small amount, but so red upon the frozen tundra. She wanted to cry out, to warn him that they would be followed, but couldn't.

'_Him?_' she suddenly thought. _Him who?_

Alice realized that the soothing rhythm was from someone walking, and that someone was taking huge steps that were leading higher up and deeper in to the Wintershadow Mountains. She slowly became aware that this same someone was carrying her, that he had wrapped his jacket around her, a jacket that smelled very familiar.

"Almost there, Lieu-Contessa," Randel said, panting from exertion. "Hang on just a little longer."

Of course. Of course he'd risked his hide for her yet again…risked both life and freedom to save her. Alice shrugged off the familiar guilt, huddling tighter against him instead. She felt him squeeze her in response.

"Still with me?" he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. "Good, stay awake! There's a barn with a cave about another mile up." He tried to quicken his pace without jostling her. "Once the sun sets, we'll be safe til morning."

He was lying about being safe, but Alice didn't mind. She knew that her wound was bad, though how bad remained to be seen.

_And to think that my wedding day started all of this,_ she thought, and tried to recall how it had all started…

Ch. 1-Bleeding a Cure

Two years had passed since the events that led to Oland's kidnapping. Just when the Empire had begun to have a sense of normalcy, communication broke down once again between the Imperial State and the Republic of Frost. Both sides accused each other of infractions of the peace treaty. The resulting outcry only caused further deterioration of the public trust.

On top of that was the terrible Red Cap Massacre, which occurred when the infamous, ruthless Section I wiped out a small band of protesters that had taken hostages at a local bank. They had demanded to have their needs met by the new Imperial financial advisor, Marquis Hoost. Instead, they had gotten the brute and brutal force of Claymore I. Indeed, Claymore I's only role was to be the "sword of the Empire," which meant to show no mercy, regardless if it was an enemy soldier or civilian.

It seemed that all the Empire knew how to do was to combat violence with violence, that is, until a new voice was raised in the fractured but still functioning Imperial council.

Second Lieutenant Alice Lee Malvin, now Contessa Malvin, who, shortly after losing her father to a stroke, assumed his place at the council meetings. It was an unprecedented act. Not only was she the youngest member ever to join, she was also the very first woman councilor in the history of the Empire. A woman's voice had never been heard on the council floor before, save for a past Empress here and there. The reason the council had decided to relent was so that Alice would carry the mantle of her family name until her young brother Allen came of age.

As ambassador of the Empire, she and a growing number of followers strove for peace and democracy where before a strike force seemed the only solution. Her no nonsense attitude carved through long held grudges and selfish ambitions. Her closest companion was Lord Schultz, who was promoted after Lord Taylor's horrific attack in Rodelia.

For various reasons Contessa Malvin was immediately seen as a radical. One of her biggest scandals was the cancellation of her marriage to Lord Lionel Taylor. Although she bemoaned what had befallen her intended, and though she made sure he received the best care in the Empire and visited him as often as she could, she deemed him "unfit husband material." It was rumored that she actually did marry him, but only in a civil ceremony, and only to gain his wealth and holdings to use them to provide for his care. As for Lord Taylor, there was no end to the rumors about him. Some said he was in a coma, while others claimed that the Contessa had him assassinated. Still others claimed that he was alive, awake and functioning, but had the mind of a boy of three. Although it was somewhat of a faux pas, her companionship with Lord Schultz was tolerated. Privilege must be allowed its eccentricities, after all.

Every time a new crisis arose, it was Alice who made sure the right people were found for the job. Hher first choice to delegate was, of course, her old unit, Section III. The Pumpkin Scissors were now spearheaded by Second Lieutenants Oreldo and Martis, who now had subordinates of their own. Section III had grown by leaps and bounds, especially after the funds from Marquis Paolo were used. A surplus was created and Captain Hunks wisely requested extra help, which his superior, Major Connery, was all too happy to provide. Now that they were finally working together, operations were twice as efficient, and thanks to Hunk's cool head, the bloodshed was kept to a minimum.

While they cleaned up and repaired what they could, Alice always looked for a way to visit the Republic, though no one in the Imperial council knew why. So far her petitions to both the council and the Court of Frost were denied. Still, she made alliances where she could, remaining as transparent as possible to avoid suspicions of being a double agent. Slowly, she gained the attention of the people of Frost as well, and started gaining a loyal following there. Talks ensued of a possible marriage alliance through her, the youngest and most eligible of the council members. Many began to believe it would be through her that peace would reign at last between the two kingdoms. Even the King of Rodelia encouraged the idea.

The title of Contessa was a heavy mantle, but Alice wore it with dignity, grace, and sheer willfulness that she had become renowned for. Her companions missed her dearly, but understood that she was still doing what Alice did best: slicing through corruption to create a better future for all. Only they knew her true reasons for trying to gain entry into Frost. Two years ago, according to all eyewitness reports, it was a small band of Republicant veteran spies that had infiltrated the Imperial Capital Hospital and kidnapped Corporal Oland, imprisoning him for murder and war crimes. All of her inquiries to his whereabouts were in vain, as well as any talk of bail or deals for prisoner swaps. She was becoming increasingly desperate, and knew there was probably only one way to find him and possibly guarantee his release.

She had to find the Lady Kavindra Teague, aka the Mad Minstrel, and trade her life for his…but how do you find a mistress of disguise and espionage?

* * *

><p>NOTE: Hey peeps! Sorry I've been so quiet lately. The last half of last year was a very busy time for me. For a few months I was working 60-80 hrs a week. After my hours were severely chopped, I was fried due to stress and became very depressed on top of that. It took a while to recover, but here I am! I'm going to rewrite Part III as well, so please bear with me for a little longer. I will try to update and add to this story as best I can on a regular basis.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2 Oh the Marrow

Ch. 2 On the Marrow

Oreldo leaned back in his chair and sighed. Another long day was drawing to a close. At least it was productive. Two short years ago he would have rebelled at the thought of doing real actual work, but even then he had known it was the right thing to do. So when the time came and Lieutenant Malvin announced her resignation, it was Oreldo who stepped up his game to take her place as XO, without a single complaint or reservation. After observing Alice break down in Rodelia, it was up to him to carry the team and see to it that the mission stayed on track. After years of denial, he knew he had to man up, and really, grow up.

Of course, he might never have taken that step if not for his comrade and best friend, Martis. Oreldo may have seniority, but he never pulled rank with Martis unless they were at an absolute stalemate when deciding the best course of action. Oreldo's gifts were his cool head and street smarts, but when it came to technical know-how and book smarts, he let Martis take the lead. Martis was more than happy to back up his friend, and with new people under them, two heads were better than one. It was only when Martis was called away to Rodelia to counsel Princess Septieme that Oreldo was less than sure of himself. Fortunately, it didn't happen too often.

As for the rest of the original team, much had changed and much had stayed the same. Captain Hunks remained a comforting, constant force amidst an always evolving military and political climate. Besides Alice, he was their greatest source of strength.

As for Hunks, working alongside Mjr. Connery was never dull. The Major cooperated with both Hunks and with 1st Lieutenant Webner to learn more about the bug problem and who or what group had been spying on them. Also, Hunks had to crawl through tomes of records in order to learn all that he could about Professor Carlton, the man known as The Father of the Tank, as well as the circumstances leading up this death…if indeed, he was dead. The fire in his home had been so severe that no body was ever recovered. Although it proved to be great for both conspiracy theorists and tabloids alike, it was a migraine for him. In any case, it required more of the Captain's time, so he had been delegating more of the regular work to the two Lieutenants.

Sergeant-Major Lily Stecchin had grown up quite a bit in two years. After returning from Rodelia, she had come home with a new sense of purpose, though she continued to remain by the Captain's side for the most part. Still as chipper as ever, Oreldo noted the experience in Rodelia colored her perspective, though mostly for the better. She studied fastidiously to gain leverage against Marquis Hoost, who by now everyone in the unit knew was either as corrupt as or worse than the former financial director, Marquis Paolo.

Lily caught Oreldo staring and pulled a face, snickering. He blushed and looked away, but only for a moment. He peered out of the corner of his eye and watched as Lily continued to school her new assistant, Private Conrad Albrecht on training his new puppy and soon-to-be-courier, Figaro. Conrad was an eager kid, a rising star in the academy, much like Martis was, with a gung-ho attitude like Lieutenant Malvin. His only flaw was that he had a penchant for shooting first and asking questions later, so Hunks wisely put him behind a desk most of the time. Still, Conrad didn't seem to mind, always asking Lily or the others to regale him with their adventures, and especially the ones with their missing comrade, Corporal Oland.

Oland. Oreldo sighed. The big guy never seemed to get a break. It wasn't until they learned that the Corporal was likely kidnapped by soldiers of the Frost Army that the LT resigned. Publically, she had blamed her father's and her fiancé's ailing health, but the unit knew the truth. It wasn't hard to guess. She wanted to use her clout as Imperial nobility to gain a foothold in negotiating with the enemy. After her father passed on, joining the Imperial council was just the next step. Mercury was put to work quite often as Alice fed the unit what news and rumors she uncovered. She also used Lord Schultz as a liaison, since much of the internal corruption stemmed from the misuse of Imperial government funds. The two rekindled their friendship, and though Lord Schultz still hoped it would grow into something more, they maintained a platonic, professional relationship.

Oreldo smiled. Although Alice had to show a cool, noble exterior, he knew she was still the stubborn, passionately driven soldier he originally met. He recalled the surprise farewell party they'd thrown for her. Boy, what a night! The beer flowed (since Alice turned twenty-one) and the cake Lily made was the best strawberries and cream he'd ever had. He never did find out how she'd gotten those ingredients...

As unforgettable as it was watching Martis dance on a table without his pants, what was more amazing was watching a slightly tipsy Alice cry freely, simply out of both sorrow and gratitude. She dropped her dignity like a pile of bricks, thanking everyone. Later on, as they started cleaning up, he saw Hunks speak to her, even giving her a small hug.

"I'm sure you know what you're doing," he'd heard the Captain say. "I only hope it brings the results you want, not just for him but for yourself."

"I remember the accounts written by the POW's from the Frost prison camps," Alice replied. "They were horrendous. As much as I'd like to do to the enemy what they did to us by stealing him away, I can't undermine the peace treaty in good conscience. This way will take longer, but the results will be better and more permanent." She looked up at him. "My only hope, Captain, is that we're not too late."


	3. Chapter 3 Paranoianemic

Ch. 3 Paranoianemic

Alice looked at the men of the Imperial council and sighed.

_Welcome to the Wonderful World of Politics,_ she thought, and suppressed the impulse to yawn out loud. _Or, as it is otherwise known: glorified lying_.

The yawn wasn't from boredom, however. Indeed, the world of politics could be exciting as walking a tightrope one hundred feet in the air without a net. Other times it was as dangerous as freefalling without a parachute. Those who thought she would be a timid, dutiful daughter were quickly shown the error of their ways. While they saw Alice's presence as a downright threat, others welcomed a fresh pair of eyes, and the novelty of a woman's perspective. She formed both allies and enemies alike. The game, of course, was to know which was which at any given moment. Players tended to switch sides, whatever suited them best.

_A game_, she thought, growing angry at the strident tones of one of the younger councilmen, _sometimes I wish I could play this game with a tank._ _Of all the tedious, outlandish…could he be any more obvious?!_

"Ridiculous!" she interjected. She resisted the urge to unsheathe her sword. "My team was able to repair a similar bridge by paying the local people to do the work. We worked alongside them to make sure it was done right and that everyone was paid fairly. Thanks to that, the supply lines were up and running months sooner than anticipated. All you need are the blueprints and a small, trusted team of architects to show them what to do! There's no need to waste extra funds for something the people can do themselves!"

The young councilman, Lord Bradford Tate of District Four, glowered but couldn't think of a reasonable counterargument. He shuffled his papers together and cleared his throat. "I was merely suggesting that area too far gone to repair. It's near District Zero, after all. A new bridge and new road would mean-"

"Unacceptable," Alice replied coolly. "We don't have the right to bulldoze that area and leave all those people homeless! All you need to do is show your sincerity, if you have any, Lord Tate." She heard a few snickers and felt Lord Schultz's elbow, signaling she was pushing her boundaries. She forged ahead in a kinder tone as Lord Tate's face turned red with rage. "My apologies, my Lord Tate," she said, doing her best to appear contrite. "But this is something I am passionate about. Any problems such as vandalism or theft are merely from desperation. Give those people a real job they can pride themselves in. Work with the local police if you must, and," she cocked her head to the side and finished sweetly, "I don't mean buying them off."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in the commonfolk, Lady Malvin," interjected an older councilman. "How can you be sure they will cooperate? After the war ended, many tried to overthrow us."

"Yes, milord, I was there," Alice replied, standing up. Lord Schultz quietly stood up behind her. "Those rebellions occurred purely out of frustration for having no real voice during or after the war." She looked around and shook her head. "Do you really not see? Don't you know what your people need? Don't you remember just how much they needed to hear our apology? The basics alone like food, water, medicine and shelter are not enough! They need _hope!_ Hope and a voice! Hope and the ability to trust in a government that won't lie to them, or trick them out of their hard-earned money! Hope that we won't slide back into war with the Republic!"

"I agree, Lady Malvin," said a calm, commanding voice, and Alice backed off and bowed her head. Lord Gerhard Aldhelm, the Grand Duke and right hand of the Emperor, stood up. "Lord Tate, I am certain we are agreed that Lady Malvin's plan is a much wiser and economical choice. The last thing we need is any sort of local uprising, especially when we have far larger problems."

Alice and Lord Tate sat down. Satisfied with the small victory, Alice thought they would adjourn for the day, but the Grand Duke continued.

"And that would concludes today's schedule, but I have been informed by His Imperial Majesty to make one additional proclamation." He turned to look at Alice. "Contessa Malvin, as I'm certain you are aware, there have been talks to broker a stronger peace treaty with our contentious neighbor." He waited until Alice gave a nod of assent. "And I'm certain you are also aware that a union in the form of marriage could unify our two nations once and for all."

Alice felt Lord Schultz take her hand under the table, but kept her expression neutral.

"Therefore," the Grand Duke said, "as decreed by His Imperial Majesty, in light of the fact that we have no living heirs at this time, and the fact that you are the youngest and therefore most eligible of all royal council members, you are hereby chosen to meet the Republic's most noble prince and heir to the throne, His Grace, Prince Olaf Manfred Frost."

Alice tried to hide her shock as the rest of the councilmen muttered amongst themselves. She had known such a plan was possible, but she didn't think they'd go for it so quickly. Could it be that His Imperial Majesty was much more desperate than he let on? Then again, she knew of no other council member willing to sacrifice their own child, not even for the sake of peace. She could hardly blame them. She couldn't waste one second imagining her brother Allen being forced to make such a choice. It bothered her that she couldn't tell whether the Grand Duke was sincere, or looking for the fastest way to get rid of her.

Possibly both; but still, it was a very acceptable way to enter enemy territory, and that was all she needed.

"Of course, milady," the Grand Duke added, "you have the right to refuse, if you have already found an agreeable suitor." He looked pointedly at Lord Schultz who blushed and looked away.

Alice secretly patted Lord Schultz's hand. Poor Schultz never could take a hint, so perhaps the harsh way was the only way. She bowed her head, sighed, and stood up once more.

"I am agreeable to the possibility of a union," she said quietly. She heard Schultz gasp behind her, followed by a thud on the floor. She fought the urge to check and see if he had fainted again.

"As the head of my House," she continued, "I am only too happy to be a possible instrument that would end all political tension between our nations. I would, however, make one request, Your Grace."

The Grand Duke raised an eyebrow. "And that is, milady?"

"I would like to meet his Lord Prince on his terms," she said. "That is, my lord, I want to go to them, rather than for them meet us. I should like to see for myself the people of this republic, and how their government provides for those people."

She ignored the voices of protest, of those who claimed she wanted a position of power. The Grand Duke smiled and nodded.

"So be it," he said, "My lady will have an entourage, of course. We won't hear of you going without a form of protection."

"Of course, Your Grace," Alice replied, "but I'd prefer an escort of my own choosing."

"If you mean your beloved unit, milady, I see no reason to object," the Grand Duke smiled, "I only ask to send one additional man, one of my most trusted with you. Think of him as a _voice_ for His Imperial Majesty."

_Provided he really is a voice for the Emperor and not just for you_, Alice thought. She knew the Grand Duke had his own agenda, as they all did. Still, the Grand Duke seemed a good man. He was a good listener so far, and her being a woman did not appear to faze him. So he would send a spy, but that was nothing new. She nodded in assent, reminding herself to find out as much as she could about the Duke's choice.

"Understood," she said.

"So noted and recorded," the Grand Duke announced, "we are adjourned. You have up to a month to prepare."

Later that afternoon, Alice walked onto the sunny veranda. She saw him sitting in his favorite spot, under the giant redwood. He enjoyed the falling leaves as they swirled around him.

Somehow, he always knew when she was near. Perhaps it was her softer, more cautious footsteps, so unlike her militant march when she was in uniform. He did his best to turn and look at her.

"Als!" Lionel said, with a big smile, proud to say her name. He was still a little cocky, too. "Als!"

Alice smiled and greeted him, noting he was wearing a tuxedo, his favorite.

"Lionel, darling. You look so handsome today! How are you?"

Try as she might, she just couldn't hate Lionel. She kept her suspicions over the first few months, but as time passed, with every doctor and every test performed, the paranoia faded.

_Are you still in there, my lord?_ she thought as she approached him, her parasol in hand. _Or has that hateful part of you truly died, and this eager, happy little boy is all that remains?_

Lionel was still a fighter in some respects. The young lord leaned back in his wheelchair and raised his arms, which was a battle he fought in earnest every day. He took to his physical and speech therapies with all the gusto he could muster. He couldn't tie his shoes, but he could read and point to a chart if he struggled with a word he couldn't say yet.

Those were the good days. On the bad days, he was nearly catatonic, lost in his own little world. He still suffered from seizures. They were thinking of additional brain surgery to reduce the frequency. Alice spent the bad days sitting next to him in silence, wiping the drool from his lips. The scar on his head left a bare patch where hair could no longer grow. However, she made sure the rest of his mane, long since grown out again, was styled accordingly.

Even though this was a good day, and Alice was full of news, she wasn't sure how to broach the subject. She decided to keep it simple, and not lie outright.

"Darling," she said, as she always called him, "I have a very important mission I must do very soon. I'm afraid I must go away for a while."

Lionel's face fell. "Pun'kin Sis?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "I will be working with my team, maybe for the last time." She bowed her head. "I…Lionel, I am not sure how long I will be away."

Lionel's became very quiet. "H'Impor'ant," he mumbled. "Misshin 'mport'int?"

"Yes, darling," she said, "this mission is very important. Probably the most important we'll ever do. I'm going to…well, we're going to try to end this war permanently. Forever. I'm…I'm to meet with His Majesty, the Crown Prince of Frost."

Lionel paused for a full minute and stared at her. Alice wondered if he had grown more lucid over the past few months, for this was the first time in ages since she had an almost normal conversation with him. It was far from a blank stare. She could almost see the gears turning, so to speak, as he desperately tried to form the right kind of response. After a couple of false starts, he sighed in frustration. Finally he managed two words in a voice that was soft but clear.

"Dun' go."

Alice's eyes widened with surprise. She was used to his petulance, but that wasn't it this time.

_Good lord, _she thought_, he might still be in there, after all. Should I tell him about the annulment? No, too complicated to explain. It will only cause him further distress._

"I'm sorry, Lionel," she said, "but I must go. It's an important step to make a lasting peace with the Republic."

Lionel frowned and stiffened in his chair. Normally, that was a sure sign of an oncoming meltdown. However, she was certain this was different.

"No," he said quite firmly, and Alice was shocked by how fierce he was. "D-don't go. Nnh…no. D-on't leave me 'ere."

Even if he was himself on the inside, it changed nothing. Alice sighed. Even now he was overly possessive. Yet, how could she blame him after all this? She took his hand and looked him in the eye.

"Darling, I will never leave you. But I have to do this. There is no one else! I have to, but I will come back. You have my word I will."

He was growing red in the face, but at her promise he stopped. He seemed to think about it for a long time.

"Aliss fix it," he mumbled at last. "Aliss an' Pun'kin Sis aws fix it. Mak'it bedder."

"Yes, you know I'll do whatever I can to fix it and make it better, darling," Alice said, smiling sadly.

He suddenly gripped her hand tighter.

"Y'fix me," he said, his voice very soft.

Shocked, Alice's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh!" she cried, "Oh darling, I wish I could!"

He vehemently shook his head.

"Y'did," he whispered. "Ah…wuz bad. Did…bad things. An' ah…wuz shot. Coulda lem' die. Coulda lef' me…but no. Y'stay. Y'fix me n'stead. Now…ah see…wha' you see." His eyes widened and he smiled a strange smile. "Had to…lose…to see."

Alice dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. She didn't know what to say to him. It was obvious he was there inside, and perhaps he was there all along. Yet he man she once knew had changed. It took a bullet for the lion to be brought low. However, it seemed to be the best thing that had happened to him, for at last he understood. At last he had lost, and lost almost everything. He had been utterly helpless. He couldn't feed himself, dress himself, wash or even pass his waste without assistance. He had to learn to speak all over again, but he had fought his way back through the mire. She could see no reason for him to lie now.

"Ah love you, Aliss," he said, "Ah aws love you."

For all of this, Alice wished she could truly love him back. In another time and place, perhaps she would have.

"I know," she whispered, "I know, darling."

Lionel sat back, satisfied his message had been understood.

"Aw right," he said with a smile. "Go."

Alice looked up at him, confused. "But…but Lionel…"

He shook his head again. "You go 'n fix it. Then come back."

Alice's jaw dropped. "Oh Lionel, if there's a way, you know I'll find it!"

"Good," he said, puffing out his chest again. "Make m' prowd."

"Yes, milord Taylor," Alice replied with a gentle chuckle. She stood and bobbed a small curtsy. She then turned and nodded to his loyal manservant. The two walked a short distance away and spoke in low tones.

"Sterling," she asked, "when did he start to-?" She couldn't finish. She realized how awful it must have been to speak as though Lionel wasn't even there.

Sterling smiled but avoided eye contact, as he had always been taught to do in the presence of high Imperial nobility. He gave a little bow.

"Contessa," he said, "I am as flabbergasted as you are."

"It's…it's a miracle!"

"So it would seem," he replied, "although, if I may say, the young master works very hard every day."

"Yes of course," Alice said. "Does he…I'll have to start asking him from now on. Does he need anything?"

My lady, it seems to me he only wishes for your safe return."

"Indeed," she replied.

"Begging your pardon, miss, but does this mission you spoke of… does it mean you are going to the Republic to parlay?"

"In a manner of speaking, Sterling, yes."

"I see," he said, his voice soft with an almost papery quality. "Once again, milady, I humbly beg your pardon. It's not my place to pass along rumors, but does this mean what I think it means?"

"You will remain silent," she said, her tone quiet but as sharp as a surgical blade, "but yes, I will see His Holiness tomorrow." She placed a hand on his shoulder, still marveling at his long, silver hair, which he wore tied back. "Sterling, you needn't worry. I have never seen a manservant so devoted. I will make certain you and His Lordship will want for nothing. And I will come back at the very earliest convenience, and I do mean in person."

"I have never doubted milady's word," Sterling said with a formal bow.

After Alice left, Sterling came up behind Lionel.

"A rare creature, your beloved," Sterling whispered. Lionel remained silent. "You made a real effort to tell her so, didn't you?" He waited for Lionel to answer, but his former 'master' merely stiffened in his chair.

Sterling chuckled sweetly. "Since you made it abundantly clear that you still have all of your marbles, I suppose you're wondering why I haven't finished the job. Part of the answer I'm sure you already know, and that's leverage, pure and simple. Your precious lady is a wonderful source of information, though she doesn't realize it. I'll tell you the other reason, if you'll tell me what you know of the Invisible Nine. Do you remember, dear brother?"

"Half," Lionel muttered.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Half bruth'r." Lionel turned his head to look up at him. It took his full concentration and nearly all of his energy. "Fath'r' nev'r wan'ed 'oo. 'Bast'urd."

Sterling chuckled. The young lord's pride hadn't vanished entirely. He _was_ getting his memories back. It was just as well. Sterling Jack was nothing if not patient.

* * *

><p>Huge difference from the original. I don't know exactly how this will tie back into the story, but it felt better to polish up this part.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4 Blood Cell

Ch. 4 Blood Cell

Randel looked up. A soft glow illuminated his tiny square of a cell. The moon was in its full glory tonight and brought with it a small measure of rare comfort. He stood in the corner, stretching to his full height, just to try to see it. He could smell the salty sea air. Even rotting seaweed smelled much better than the prison. He could almost reach the window, but even if he could, it was far too small for him to fit through.

_The Lieutenant could fit through_, came the unbidden thought. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking of her, not now. The company he kept these days was always on the lookout for potential weakness. If they knew he was more like Ferdinand the Bull rather than the proclaimed warmonger, and now, pit fighter, it would be a feeding frenzy worse than sharks feasting on chum. He had to keep a menacing exterior at all times. It was a matter of survival.

The reason Randel became a pit fighter was purely for survival, too. It really was that simple. Ice Cliff Penitentiary, nicknamed the Ice Box, was the oldest and largest prison in the Republic. It was run by an old-fashioned warden whose ideas about how a prison should be run were primeval. After a long day of back-breaking manual labor, Randel was forced along with everyone else to watch the horrific displays, which harkened back to the days of the Roman gladiators.

Randel hadn't even been in the prison for a week when without warning, someone pushed him in.

Later on he learned that it happened often, especially to new meat. Someone gets shoved into the pit and suddenly had to prove he wasn't a coward. Most of the time, the fighter had to face another fellow inmate, or the toughest set of guards, while at other times they brought out the dogs. Randel thought that whoever had pushed him was probably one of the guards, and was either just curious or figured Randel was too big to waste so much of their food provisions on.

Randel's first fight involved the dogs. It all happened so fast. One minute he was looking at the dogs from above, noting how riled they were. He counted their ribs and pitied them. The next minute he had fallen in and the dogs were instantly tearing into him.

Everyone who watched never forgot that fight. They all thought it was over…until the dogs started yelping. Randel counted himself lucky that there were only three of them. He was biting them back, grasping handfuls of sand and gravel and rubbing it in their eyes. He eventually found a rock and used it on their poor skulls.

It took several long moments before he was free enough to scramble for the nearest real weapon he could find, which happened to be an old and rusted fire axe. With his bicep mangled almost beyond repair, he could only use one arm. Still, he tried to kill them as fast as possible, and it wasn't just to save his own life; he just didn't want them to suffer needlessly.

His tough visage slipped only once at the end when, unable to stop himself, he stroked the last dead dog's scrawny body. He forced himself back, dropping the axe as he was subdued by the collar that now resided on his and every inmate's neck. It was only when he was alone in the infirmary that he allowed himself to cry quietly and mourn what he had done.

One might assume committing such deeds would be horrible because of the violence-their being on the outside of normal human behavior. However, this is why Randel was a good soldier: the fury, the frenzy, the sheer chaos that is the heat of battling for one's life hour by hour, and sometimes minute by minute; this is Randel's version of 'normal.' It was when he had to face civilians and live a civilian life that he was very much afraid.

Normal? What was a normal life supposed to look like? He had no idea. It had been such a long, and terrible war. He grew up within the war. The prospect of fitting back into a society that feared him, gawked at him and didn't really want him seemed insurmountable. He wasn't afraid to try, but he honestly didn't always know what the correct response was. He tried different tactics. He softened his voice, hunched over to make himself smaller, treated everyone gently and mostly made himself watch and listen to the people around him. It hadn't helped much. All a person had to do was look at Randel's face to decide he was probably trouble. It didn't matter if it were true or not. The truth seemed irrelevant in the war as well. Another year or two like that would have driven him insane.

Yet then… then he met _Alice._

The solitude of having a cell all to himself was both a blessing and a curse. Without any bunkmates, he could drop his mask of intimidation and let himself breathe, if only for a little while. He didn't have to worry about keeping one eye open while he slept, although he did so anyway out of habit. However, it was also torture to be alone with only one's thoughts for company.

Sometimes his memories of Alice and his beloved Pumpkin Scissors cheered him, but at other times, like tonight, it made him painfully aware of how alone and vulnerable he was.

It had to have been about two years since he was kidnapped and brought here, by his reckoning. He knew they would search for him. After all, when he left for Rodelia, they came looking for him. Were they still searching now? Did they have any clue where he was? Were they all right? Was Alice safe and alive? Had they given him up for dead?

Of course, he knew he wasn't alone in his thoughts, in a sense. Indeed, almost every man in there was tortured by lost or unfulfilled love or desire. Often the only cure was a quickie with a mag. A skin mag was often the most prized possession, if anyone was allowed to have anything at all. There were punishments and rewards, the favored and the bullied. It was an archaic system.

If Randel was lucky enough, if he was extra impressive in the pit and the head guard was feeling unusually generous, he was allowed to have a visitor-a prostitute. He pitied them even more than the dogs. They were pathetic creatures, aged well beyond their actual years, with garish makeup and equally garish costumes. Randel was as accommodating as he knew how to be. He never forced them to do anything, even allowing them to sleep in his own bed. Many were often confused-why look a gift horse in the mouth? Some wondered if he was secretly a dandy, but the older ones understood, and appreciated his kindness, although they had to take pains to pretend he was like any other inmate. In return, they brought him news about the outside world. Unfortunately, they didn't know much about what was happening in enemy territory, that is, the Empire. Still, a Republican newspaper was better than nothing.

Now, it wasn't that some of them didn't at least try to seduce Randel into sleeping with them. The Big Guy Upstairs knew they tried. Randel even heard that there was a betting pool among them to see just who would get him to crack. He'd have found the whole thing hilarious if it wasn't so pathetic. Imagine what Sub-Lieutenant Oreldo would think! Randel remembered how his suave superior would sometimes ask him if he wanted to go to places like the Windmuhle for fun. Randel always turned him down, often stating he had his cats to care for.

It was an excuse, of course. Randel just couldn't do it, not then, and especially not now. Even though he knew they would never have to worry about certain issues like having his child, he knew he couldn't allow that part of himself to awaken. He knew that if he did, he ran the risk of hurting them. Once fed, that hunger would never abate. He knew it to his bones. Randel just assumed that physical intimacy wasn't in the cards for him. He was just too…large. He thought of Sister Rosetta's insistence and it _still_ made him blush all these years later. After the war, women and young girls desperate for money practically threw themselves at him, even though his mere visage had them shaking in their shoes. He didn't touch them, not once. After Galiena, he thought he'd never find anyone who wouldn't find him at least a little frightening.

But Alice…his Valkyrie, his guardian angel …was almost fearless. Randel leaned against the wall and sighed, sliding to the floor. While their first meeting was a little intimidating for her, especially when she saw him use his lantern, she treated him as a comrade, as one of the guys, working with him. Later on, even though she was royal nobility, she had allowed him to get close to her, to watch over her after she had collapsed in the train tunnel, touching his face in Essen while chiding him, sitting with him as he held little Dieter in his arms.

Those memories were safe, but then the unsafe ones would crawl in. Lifting her up after she had passed out at the ball, grabbing her from behind to save her from falling, feeling her writhe underneath him when the cave collapsed, seeing her again as though for the first time in that shimmering, gauzy Dove costume, holding her little body in the hospital, and at last, kissing her…it was all he could do not to groan aloud. He couldn't ever trade that kiss, not for anything. He hugged his arms, reliving the feel of her small, lithe frame against his.

Randel was so torn. He wanted to forget what had happened between them. He knew it wasn't right, with her being a noble, and him a…well, nobody. He also wanted to remember every last detail. He couldn't help it. The more he fought against them, the more intense his feelings for her grew. Some time ago, just seeing her again would have been enough. Now he wasn't so sure.

He chuckled to himself, trying to stop again. If she had any idea what he wanted to with her right then, he'd get much more than a slap!

* * *

><p>Just fleshing out this chapter a bit more, also adding a much more mature tone. Remember, Randel is a grown man, and quite a manly man at that, imho. Imagine what it must be like to be in a world where everyone and everything is so much smaller than you. It has to be quite frustrating, and I think I'll be able to explore that much more later on.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5 War Chest

Ch. 5 War Chest

Captain Hunks took a single puff on his pipe, though he knew it cost him. Lately he'd developed a cough from deep within his chest that refused to leave. He'd known for a long time that smoking was unhealthy, but after the war tobacco was considered a luxury as rare as caviar.

Worse, the tobacco industry was also a big lobby in the government. Money talks. His now ex-wife begged him to give it up, but he couldn't, at least not back then. He'd tried to explain to her his suspicions of the drug effects of tobacco, which he thought were much like the effects of alcohol. He tried to tell her that he couldn't just quit, but his words fell on deaf ears. Well, by then they'd both stopped listening.

_It could be worse, _he supposed,_ at least it's not Himmel_. It really was terrible, the weapons invented purely for war. Not all weapons were so blatantly obvious, like tanks and guns. He thought about chemical warfare, like Grau Wulf's insidious K-3, designed specifically to harm the weak and helpless. At the time the Empire was so paranoid it considered every Republican to be hostile. Hunks hated to admit it, but the Empire's fears were not unfounded at all. He had lost count how many times they had come across Republican civvies only to find that their homes, vehicles and ordinary household items were wired. Many of his comrades died that way.

Psychological warfare was by far the most dangerous. Leaving bodies strung up in trees, ears and thumbs taken as trophies…shit. Anything to intimidate or demoralize the enemy could be used. And Hunks did. Major Connery used to throw it in his face whenever he could, using it as leverage until it no longer worked. Hunks wanted nothing more than to wash his hands clean of it all, but he knew he couldn't. Hunks was no angel in the war. There were none.

His thoughts touched upon Cpl. Oland. That poor young man…well, younger than Hunks anyway. He knew Oland's scars ran far deeper than skin. He'd always hoped Oland would turn to him for counsel, but the stubborn ox never did. Perhaps Hunks only served to remind him of the past. Oh, the Corporal was always respectful…but he could never quite meet the Captain's eyes. Probably didn't like what he saw. His other subordinates didn't know, and were too smart to ask. Even Lt. Malvin had left it alone.

He then thought about the coded messages in letters and how newspapers were instructed to exaggerate, even lie outright, to fool the enemy. Hunks knew that even though the war had been over for years, the newspaper hadn't changed back at all. The truth is never safe…but then, it didn't have to be. It might take another decade or two, but it wouldn't be suppressed forever.

Hunks was so tired. He was tired of all of it. The lies, the twisted politics, the paranoia that cloaked everything and everyone in the Empire…he was sick of all of it. He stretched his shoulders and stood up, looking out the window as he often did. He knew his retirement was quickly approaching, but he couldn't give up yet. His Imperial Majesty's subjects were still suffering. If he was tired, imagine how they felt! Not only that, but his subordinates, especially the rookies, still needed guidance.

Besides, he knew he had one last mission to fulfill. It wasn't tracking down Professor Carlton, even if he was still alive, which Hunks doubted. It was helping Alice, now Contessa Malvin, to find Cpl. Oland. Fortunately, finding Carlton worked well with that because Alice told him Carlton apparently had worked with the Mad Minstrel's spy network. It was he who sent the men who destroyed the Duke's special tank so it could never be reproduced. The Mad Minstrel was originally a Republican noble, and though she had been cast out of her homeland, Hunks figured she'd return in one of her many guises. It would be just like to be under the Republic's very nose...

_Unless that's what she wants everyone to think,_ he chuckled to himself. One never knew with Lady Kavi.

* * *

><p>Lily could feel his eyes on her again. Ever since their adventures in Rodelia, she began noticing Oreldo's attitude toward her and change. Almost overnight he'd matured and become reliable, even punctual most days. Of course, he'd still tease her and coat his words with sarcasm, but his actions were sincere. His actions were also largely underhanded, but because of that, he avoided a lot of red tape as well. He studied Hunks' tactics as well as employed his own street smarts. Alice's methods were honest, but they were also much slower. Well, to each his own, she supposed.<p>

Lately, Oreldo's teasing had become less annoying and more…what? He still called her Airhead every so often, but an affectionate tone had crept in his voice. She'd caught him watching her, even sneaking a look when she practiced piano in the rehearsal room. He'd pretended to be drunk and claimed to have gotten lost on his way to the barracks, but Lily had known better. She'd seen the look on his face when she'd played Mozart. He'd been blushing, but she knew it wasn't because of alcohol.

Lily had mourned the loss of Alan for a long time. She even traveled back to Rodelia once to lay flowers on his grave as a last goodbye. Every time she found herself grieving, there was Oreldo, handing her a box of tissues, giving her privacy, or even just a small hug, before hurrying away to do paperwork. Martis, Hunks, and even Conrad had comforted her also, but it seemed to Lily that Oreldo went a little further than necessary.

Sometimes she wondered if it was all in her head. After all, this was Oreldo, the ladykiller, the one who flirted with nearly anyone who was female. Many girls would swoon in his presence, though occasionally there would be one or two who slapped him instead. However, he never flirted with Lily. His teasing never stepped over the line. She wondered why. He went to the local pub less frequently, but that could just be because of the extra responsibilities he'd taken on after Alice had left to join the Imperial Council.

Alice…Lily missed her and Oland terribly. After hearing Alice had finally found a way to venture into the Republic of Frost, Lily debated joining her on the excursion. However, Hunks asked her to stay, citing he needed an extra pair of hands to help out with the rookies, and Private Conrad, in particular. Poor Conrad would resent being left behind. So far, Lily had done a fair job of reining him in, teaching him that not all fights were won with fists. Training him and Figaro had proved to be challenging but rewarding.

Also, Hunks had wanted her to continue investigating Marquis Hoost, linking him with embezzling, bribery, prostitution and extortion. Everything was circumstantial so far, but since he'd been there at the ball when Lord Taylor was, Lily figured the two were linked via the Silver Wheel.

Her research into the legend of the Silver Wheel was frustrating, to say the least. She was as cautious as she knew how to be, careful not to disturb the waters any more than necessary. When Conrad found out what she was doing, she had to grab him before he charged to the Hoost manor. Lily winced. Another mistake like that could cost lives. She brought Conrad in only so he wouldn't look into it for himself and possibly get killed for his efforts.

She felt a cold nose touch her hand. She looked at the time and realized she was late for taking both Mercury and Figaro out on their daily walk. She called to Conrad, and together they went to face another adventure. Figaro's youthful energy often rubbed off on Mercury and Conrad. Lily knew that for this mission, she would need every ounce of her wits!

* * *

><p>Hey, peeps! I hope I can get this caught up soon so I can start adding new stuff! My work schedule's changing (yet again) but I'll do the best I can in the coming weeks!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6 Vein Hopes

Ch. 6 Vein Hopes

Alice invited her family together for a special supper to inform them of the Imperial Council's decision. She expected the house to be thrown in uproar, or at least, a small hurricane from Ellis, but instead she was met with nothing. It was followed by a small voice that was loud only because of the deafening silence.

"You're going into enemy territory, Alice?" eight-year old Allen asked. "Are you going to spy for the Emperor?"

The three sisters looked at each other. Solice cracked up first, followed by the others. Solice's two-year old, Alex, started hopping in his seat, laughing, which made everyone laugh harder. Alice grinned and glanced at her stepmother, Evelyn, and was relieved to see her tittering into her napkin. Since her father's passing, the two had grown from amicable strangers to close friends, if not quite family.

"No, Allen," Alice said, turning back to her brother. "I'm going to make the war stop once and for all!"

Allen's eyes grew wide. "Wow!"

"Good luck with that," Ellis muttered dryly. Solice sighed and shook her head. Alice looked at them all, bewildered.

"Is that all you're going to say?" she asked.

"Allen, I do believe you are quite finished," Evelyn interjected. "You are excused. Take Alex with you to your room and play."

"Aw, but Mother," Allen said. "This is important! I'm old enough to hear this!"

"You're old enough when I say you're old enough, young man. Off with you!"

Allen almost stomped off in a huff, but remembering his own words, held his proud head up high and carried Alex with him in a way he hoped was dignified.

Alice frowned as she watched them leave. "He had a point, Evelyn," she said. "You can't shelter him forever. In another two years I will be passing on my sword to him. He must be ready for the responsibility it carries. If this marriage is successful, maybe even a little sooner."

Evelyn bowed her head in sorrow. Even that small movement was delicate, poised and graceful. It was easy to see why the late Lord Alexander Malvin had fallen for her, even when he thought he'd never find love again. She was every bit the lady Alice was not, but neither one had begrudged the other.

Even at a young age, Alice had known that in the years after her mother had passed, Lord Malvin was lonesome. When he was home, which wasn't often, he wasn't really there. He'd sit in his favorite chair for hours, just staring into the fire. At first, Alice thought she had done something wrong. She did everything she could to cheer him, but nothing worked. It was then that Lord Malvin realized what he was doing and explained himself as best he could to his youngest daughter. Soon after that, he somewhat rejoined the living and returned to social functions. Evelyn Trudeau was the niece of Lord Trudeau of the 7th Grand House, now one of Alice's strongest supporters. The rest, as they say, is history.

"I know," Evelyn said, sighing. "He looks more like your father every day. But surely, he can wait until we see if your endeavors are successful, can't he?"

"That's the other thing," Alice said, looking at them all. "Aren't you even going to argue? Tell me what a stupid, harebrained idea this is? I thought I'd hear an objection or something."

"Why don't you try being honest and just spit it out?" Ellis said in a flat tone. "We know you know it's a stupid, harebrained scheme. Why don't you just admit the real reason and be done with it? Father's not here to scold you anymore."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Alice asked.

"Alice, don't you think we know why you've been trying to get into the Republic for so long?" Solice asked gently. "We know you well enough to know you'll use any means necessary, even throwing away your own future. What happens if you can't find him?"

"Find who?" Alice mumbled, even though she knew it was a futile bluff.

"You know darn well who, Alice," Ellis huffed.

Alice bowed her head and sighed. "Do you think anyone else knows the real reason?" she asked them all.

Solice thought for a moment. "I think most on the council, especially those with closer ties to us, would guess you'd be looking to trade prisoners or something because he's your former subordinate. You're not exactly subtle." She looked at Alice, who slumped in her seat and wondered if her sister knew the real reason herself. "I wouldn't worry too much," she added, "at least not about that. But you never answered my question. What if you don't find him? What if he's been executed?"

Alice gasped. She hadn't even considered such a thing. She wanted to yell at her sister, but the years and her position had instilled a small measure of maturity. She sighed instead. Solice was only trying to help, and it was very possible that she was right. She thought for a moment more.

"Then I'll marry and our two countries will finally have a peace thicker than thin ice," she said, nodding. "You have to admit, it's not a bad consolation prize."

"A consolation prize?!" Ellis cried, standing up and pacing. "How dare they!"

Alice was confused. "How…dare they what? They who?"

"Ellis, calm down," Solice said, but Ellis would not be deterred.

" I oughta wring the Grand Duke's neck!"

Alice gaped at her fiery sister. "That's treason!"

"I don't give a damn! How dare he and the council force this upon her? And make her believe it's her duty?!"

"Ellis-"

"My sister's not a consolation prize!" Ellis declared. "She's so much more valuable than that!" She suddenly turned on Alice. "Why can't you see you don't have to be a martyr for every single useless cause?!"

Ellis burst into tears. A teary Solice hugged her and Eliss dissolved into her arms.

Alice was frozen for a moment. She couldn't remember the last time Ellis told her she loved her. Passionate expression was seen as undignified, and was therefore seldom seen in the nobility, even behind closed doors. Perhaps that explained why Master Schultz's adorations were so over the top. He had nothing to gauge his intensity with.

She took a deep breath. "This isn't a useless cause, Ellis," she said quietly.

"You haven't thought this through, _again," _Ellis insisted."Say you do find the Corporal, but the prince you marry is a complete jerk. What then? He won't let you go traipsing around every prison. On top of that, if he's cruel to you, the prince will likely still insist on you producing an heir. Do you know what that means? Did you even think of that? Or hell, maybe he's a nice guy. When he finds out the real reason you're there, he might wage war all over again just out of spite!"

"All right, so I'm crazy!" Alice cried, throwing up her hands. "I have done everything in my power I know how to do to fix this country, fix the council, fix the Imperial capital, fix everything! I can't tell you how there are times I wish I could just go back to the barracks, but that won't solve anything. Now we're in danger of sliding back into war. Nobody wants that, but nobody's desperate enough to make it stop!"

"Alice," Solice said, "That's what Ellis is trying to say. You _can't_ save everyone. You _can't_ fix everything. The world doesn't have to be on just your shoulders alone."

"Yeah, why does it have to be you?" Ellis asked, and then muttered under her breath, "Why don't they just use a sacrificial lamb?"

Alice sighed. "I know," she said, answering Solice. "I learned that lesson long ago, but that doesn't mean I should stop trying, or stop wanting to try. I really want to stop the fighting, too. Who knows, maybe the prince is just as weary as I am. If marrying him helps both of our countries heal even a little bit, then well…why not?"

Evelyn spoke up. "You'd inherit the throne of Frost," she said softly. "Alice, you'd become an Empress. You'd have all the power you'd need to find your friend then."

"Are you actually condoning this?" Ellis cried. "What if she just becomes another part of a-a…a harem or something?"

"What's that to you?" Evelyn said. "That's none of your business. Every kingdom has its secrets, as does every house."

"Are you talking about your tryst with the kitchen boy?" Ellis asked with angelic venom.

Alice and Solice groaned.

"You just had to bring _that_ up?" they asked at the same time.

"For the last time, there was no tryst!" Evelyn sputtered. "He was just comforting me-"

"While Father was in the hospital _dying?!_" Ellis asked. "_Riiiight…_"

"_Enough,_" Alice said, pounding her fist on the table like a gavel. "Bringing up the past isn't going to solve anything. I'm going through with this, with my eyes open as much as they can be. I know it's no different than flying by the seat of my pants, but what else can I do? I'm not making any headway otherwise, not in the Council, and not in much else, either. At least when I'm with my men, maybe together we'll find a way to do something, _anything!_"

They all looked at her. Alice bowed her head.

"When I was with Section Three, even the smallest step felt better than none. In the Council, it's like for every step forward; we take two steps back and then one more sideways! I'm sick of it! I have to do something, and if it's drastic, so be it!"

Solice snickered. "Well," she said, "I've never known you to take baby steps with anything! I guess all we can do is to wish you good luck."

"Yeah," Ellis said, "maybe when you're with your unit, they'll knock some sense into you, or at least keep you grounded."

"Perhaps," Alice said smiling, "but in any case, they'll be able to cover more ground than I can alone. If they do find him and find a way to set him free, then I know I can live with this decision with a clearer conscience."

"Yep, you're crazy," Ellis said. "But we wouldn't have you any other way!"

The conversation dissolved to small matters after that, and they all talked late into the night. In the morning, Alice instructed her personal maids to start preparing for the journey. She then stood outside her front door, strangely relieved. She headed to the Imperial Army Headquarters.

* * *

><p>Not too many changes here, except to show just how much Alice's sisters do care about her. :)<p> 


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